Adventures in Fatherhood
by 1seddiefan
Summary: Dean accepted his role of being Blake's father. Now all he has to do is try to be a father towards his cousin. Blake accepted the fact his cousin will now be his 'father.' Seth and Roman decide to accept their roles of being uncles to a kid that they kind of know. How will this go? A series of one-shots.
1. Homework

A/N: So this is my first chapter story. I hope you'll enjoy.

Summary: In which Dean tries to get Blake to do his homework.

* * *

Blake showed up for the weekend and had math homework to do.

Dean wasn't sure how to parent at all. He was sure his mother didn't know how to mother either. That probably explains why he's so screwed up.

It was now Saturday and Blake hadn't even touched the math book. The math book was thick and heavy, as Dean learned when he picked it up.

"Are they trying to destroy your spine with this?" Dean asked, looking at the Algebra 1 text book.

"Yes," Blake answered bluntly.

"Here do your math." Dean said, giving the 'paperweight' to Blake.

Blake grabbed it and looked at the book with disgust. He looked back at Dean and whined, "But _Dad_."

"No. I'm a parent now and I'll parent you." Dean said and faltered. "Did that sound really weird to you?"

Blake just nodded, "Please never say 'I'll parent you' again."

Dean looked at Blake, "Agreed. Now do your homework."

Blake shook his head, "I don't understand a single thing. My teacher doesn't explain it clearly. I have no clue what the heck is going on. I missed the first four months because I was in the mental hospital and she won't explain things to me."

"Have you asked your friends?" Dean asked.

"I did, but they couldn't explain it better than my teacher," Blake answered. "They got frustrated because not even they can explain it to the point where I can understand it. That's why I asked you for help, but not even you can't figure it out."

"We didn't do this shit in high school. What the fuck is the Pythagorean theorem?" Dean asked.

"That's what Alex said," Blake said. "Literally. I'm not doing that. I can't understand a single thing it's asking."

"Do you want to flunk math like I did?" Dean asked.

"You flunked math?" Blake asked, stunned. He was beginning to find out new things about his cousin…or dad…whatever.

"I'm stupid. In math," Dean said. "That other shit, I passed. So, do your work."

Blake pouted, "You're supposed to be the fun parent."

Dean scoffed, "I am fun. Now finish your work and we can do something."

Blake dropped the text book. It landed with a thud on the ground.

"Seriously? They're trying to destroy your spines by having you lug that thing around all day," Dean said. He was wondering if he was this difficult when he didn't want to do his homework.

"I know," Blake said. "The only lockers we have are for PE."

"I will chase you down the street with power tools, if you don't do your homework," Dean threatened.

Blake gave Dean a strange look, "No you won't."

Dean gave Blake his 'Crazy-Eyes,' however Blake just looked at Dean like 'what have you been smoking?'

* * *

"Why is Dean chasing Blake down the street with a drill and screwdriver?" Paul asked Mrs. Hendrickson.

The woman shook her head, "I have no clue."

"Do your homework!" Dean shouted.

"There's our answer," Paul replied.

Mike just looked confused, "That's not how you get someone to do their homework. I should know; I have two kids of my own."

Mrs. Hendrickson nodded, "I know. But it's amusing though." She just smiled as Paul shrugged.

"If you want to kill someone, just stab a syringe of air in someone and it'll mimic a heart attack. No one will notice because it looks like a heart attack," Paul said. Mike just stared at his husband in shock. "I watch a lot of crime shows."

Across the street, a girl that looked to be around sixteen turned to her house. "Mom! Dean's chasing after Blake again!" She put a trash bag in the trashcan and went to her house. "Again!"

A police officer was down the street talking to a couple of suspects, when they heard the commotion.

The cop looked at Dean chasing after Blake with a screwdriver and drill. The cop shook his head, "Jesus Christ. Not again."

Dean and Blake turned around, and headed back to the house.

* * *

"Who wants to measure Mount Rushmore? Just ask the freaking tour guide for information. They know their crap," Blake shouted.

Dean wasn't sure how to respond to that. That makes a lot more sense then figuring out how tall Mount Rushmore is. "I'm sure the teacher won't appreciate you trying to be a smart-ass."

"It's true. Just ask the tour guide," Blake said. "Who wants to do all these calculations?"

Dean shrugged, "I think there are people out there that are like that."

"I bet they're fun at parties," Blake said.

"So are Satanists," Dean said.

Blake looked at Dean, "I'm not going to ask."

"There was this one guy when I was in high school—" Dean started to explain.

"That explains a lot," Blake said.

"Shut up." Dean said, "Do your work about that weird-named chick who wants to measure Mount Rushmore for…thrill reasons."

* * *

"I think I'm getting the hang of this father thing," Dean said. He sounded so proud of himself.

Seth and Roman weren't sure how to feel about that.

"Your first day of fatherhood?" Roman replied, "And you're already getting 'the hang of it?'"

"I partially raised him," Dean said.

"So what did you do?" Seth asked.

Dean shrugged, "I made him do his homework."

"That's so fatherly," Roman said in a sarcastic tone.

"I chased him down the road with a screwdriver and drill. I was yelling at him to do his homework. Does that count?" Dean asked.

"Aw. That's what my mother used to do." Seth said and smiled fondly at the memories. He frowned, "Except she wanted me to clean my room."

"Our mothers would get along so well," Dean said to Seth.

"Your mother would scare my mom," Seth said.

Roman wasn't sure how to interrupt this conversation. He decided to somehow try, "So what happened after you chased Blake down the road?"

"I got him to do his homework," Dean said. "Who wants to measure Mouth Rushmore?"

"I know, just ask the tour guide." Roman said, "I hear they know what the hell they're talking about."

* * *

A/N: I remember when I was in geometry; there was a math problem that involved some weird named girl wanting to measure how tall Mount Rushmore is.

Also, I forgot to mention that my brother had moved to Reno Nevada with his friend last month. They moved in with some of their friends that had moved there in December. They got a cat and my brother's friend named her Willow Anne Pond.


	2. Spoons

Summary: Dean believes that the wooden spoon makes him a 'god' to Blake, Dylan, and Alex.

* * *

Dean didn't mind Alex and Dylan being there with Blake. He was grateful for the two being there for Blake.

Dean was stirring the cookie dough as the three teenagers sat around watching a movie. He wasn't sure what the movie was about.

Dean tried to tune out Dylan and Alex's argument; that was about which female character is hotter. Blake was uncomfortable about the argument topic, since he just wanted to watch the movie.

"I think Taylor Swift is hot." Dean was sure that Dylan said that.

"So is Michelle Obama." Alex replied in a somewhat dry/sarcastic tone.

There was silence and Dean dared to see what the boys were doing. He looked in the living room to see Dylan and Alex doing the wimpy fight. Blake was in the middle of the two boys and looked like he was trying to force himself into the back of the couch. He seemed like he was trying to get away from the hands and he looked uncomfortable.

Dean decided to interfere when Dylan started to pull Alex's hair.

He was holding the wooden spoon and looked at the two boys. "Alright! If you two don't stop fighting, I'm forcing you three into the corners!" Dean declared and waved the dough coated spoon at them.

Dylan and Alex stopped their wimp-fight and looked at Dean confused. Dylan released Alex's hair.

"I didn't do anything," Blake countered.

"Yeah, you didn't stop their fight," Dean said and went into the kitchen. There was the sound of hands hitting each other and the man returned, to see the two boys stop fighting. Dean pointed at the three with the wooden spoon, "That's it! Corners!"

Dylan scoffed and Dean pointed the spoon at him. "Don't make me go over there and whack you with the spoon." Dean looked at the teenagers. "Go to the corners." Blake went to stand in oner corner as Dylan went to another.

Alex went to follow Dylan, but Dean pointed the spoon at him. "Go stand in your own corner." Alex did as he was told. "Now don't leave your corners until the cookies are done baking and cooling off." Dean shook the spoon at them and went back to the kitchen to finish making the cookies.

The teens weren't facing the wall, and were standing in the corners, looking at each other.

"This is so stupid," Alex said.

"Whatever you were arguing about was stupid," Dean said from the kitchen. "Not one more sound out of you."

Dylan laughed and pointed at Alex, "You got told." Dean came back with a clean spoon and whacked Dylan on the head; just hard enough for it to sting for a few seconds. Dylan pouted and grabbed the spot on his head. The stinging went away, but he felt like his manliness was just insulted, because he got hit with a wooden spoon.

He looked at Alex who was pointing at him and had his mouth covered to hide his laughs. Blake just had his arms crossed and rolled his eyes. Dylan looked at his boyfriend and mouthed, "Shut up," at him.

_Yeah, Dylan told him._ Blake thought sarcastically and sat on the ground.

* * *

After the cookies were done and had cooled off, the four guys were in the living room. Dean was holding the wooden spoon and Blake looked at the coffee table.

Whatever Dylan and Alex were fighting about, they apparently settled it as Alex had his arm around Dylan's shoulders. Dylan bit a cookie in half.

"You put your feet on that coffee table, I'm going to hit you with the spoon." Dean threatened, and waved the wooden spoon at Blake.

"I didn't do anything," Blake said startled.

"Yeah, but you were thinking about it." Dean replied and held up the spoon. He shook it menacingly at Blake and Dylan snorted.

"Manners Dylan," Alex said.

Dylan made a disgusted sound and Alex rolled his eyes. He leaned over and kissed Dylan on the cheek anyway. Dylan ended up making a 'pleased' sound. Dean wasn't sure if it was because of the cookie or from the kiss on the cheek.

* * *

"You sent your cousin—" Roman started to say.

"He's my son now," Dean interrupted.

"Sorry. You sent your son and his friends to the corners?" Roman asked confused.

"His friends were arguing and he wasn't doing anything to stop it." Dean pointed out and crossed his arms.

"Why were you threatening them while holding a wooden spoon?" Seth asked. That was the part that he didn't get.

Dean just smiled, "The wooden spoon makes me their god."

"I hear you can start a religion when you have ten followers," Roman said. He didn't want to hear about Dean trying to be a parent. The key word was 'trying.'

Dean looked like he was thinking about it. "I probably have more than one thousand fans. I am God. Kiss my feet peasants."

Triple H realized that he had chosen the wrong moment to walk in on that sentence. "I don't even want to know what the hell you're talking about. Once you get over your weirdness, come see me in my office."

"The three of us?" Seth asked. He didn't do anything. Okay, he may have had gone to a bar and ended up waking up in a holding cell. He wasn't sure what he had done, but he vaguely remembered yelling at a flagpole and then tried to go skinny dipping in a fountain. Whatever else he did, Roman and Dean weren't telling him.

"Yes, the three of you." Triple H stated and left the locker room. He wasn't sure why he always kept walking in on his employees having the most weird conversations.

"I've done nothing wrong," Seth pointed out.

"Yeah, waking up in a holding cell is nothing." Dean replied, hoping he sounded sarcastic.

"So, how was day two of being a parent?" Roman asked, honestly curious.

"Well, I sent Blake and his friends to the corner. I also made cookies," Dean said.

"Why don't you make cookies for us?" Seth asked. He was aware he sounded whiny.

Dean snorted, "Because you don't ask nicely."

Seth seemed to think about it and looked at Dean. He made sure to pout a little as he asked, "Daddy? Can you please make me cookies?"

Dean threw a shirt at Seth's face, "_No_."

* * *

A/N: I got writer's block, halfway through. I feel bad because it might seem a little rushed.

I got the whole religion thing from the website Unfriendable.


	3. Truth

Summary: Blake wants to know what happened to his real father. Dean tells him the truth.

* * *

To be honest, Dean always thought that Aunt Christina had a one night stand with some man in run-down hotel room. It was possibly a room where a woman had shot her husband to death.

However when Dean had turned eighteen, after he got rejected from six art schools, Christina had told him the truth about Blake's dad.

It was way too much information that Dean didn't need to know about. It made sense because Dean's mother Robin was Christina's best friend.

It had been when Dean was sitting on the couch, drawing a castle and trying not to let the rejections get to him.

Christina looked at Dean, "Have I ever told you who Blake's dad is?"

Dean didn't look up, "I assumed that you got pregnant during a one-night stand." He looked up and got hit with a pillow.

"No, I have more class than that. Not like some of the other mothers out there," Christina scolded. "Now you're going to know how I got pregnant."

Dean went back to shading the sun in. "No offense, I don't really care."

"I'm telling you anyway," Christina said.

"Should I get Blake?" Dean asked.

"No. He's too young to know," Christina replied.

Dean wondered if it was it as bad as that one girl that got pregnant in a cemetery.

* * *

Years later, Blake asked Dean the question. It was the question that made Dean question if he should tell Blake or not.

Blake had asked, "What happened to my real dad?"

Dean handed Blake a wet plate, so Blake can dry it. Fathers wash dishes with their sons, right? It was manly bonding, right? Do parents wash dishes with their kids?

Dean's first thought was, _well, he heard worse at school. Wait, how come his mother didn't tell him?_

Dean considered lying, but that would turn into a big mess and end up with broken trust. He decided that telling the truth will be better. "Your mom doesn't know who your dad is."

Blake looked confused. "So, how did she get pregnant?"

Dean handed a knife to Blake. "Don't use that on your wrist. I eat with that too." Blake looked offended. "She told me that she was at an orgy and there were a lot of men there." Dean looked at Blake and saw that he was…relieved.

"At least it wasn't a male stripper," Blake said.

"Why would you be glad that it wasn't a male stripper?" Dean asked.

Blake looked up at Dean, "That would be cliché. At least it wasn't a one-night stand. That is also a cliché."

For a kid that doesn't like cussing and was considered naïve or innocent, Blake wasn't either of those things. Dean was thankful for that because he doesn't want to explain that to him.

"Yeah, that really is." Dean said. "What did your mom tell you?"

Blake looked at Dean, "She told me the truth, but I thought she was lying."

"Why would you think she was lying?" Dean asked.

"She kept telling me that she bought the silverware from the store, but then I found out that she was stealing it from you." Blake said and put the plate up. Dean wondered how Blake really felt after finding out how he was conceived. Blake looked at Dean, "Let's never have another discussion like this again."

Dean nodded in agreement. He didn't want to have another conversation about his aunt's sex life again. "I agree with you on that one."

* * *

Dean ended up having to tell Roman and Seth about how Blake was conceived.

"Never heard that one before," Roman said.

"I know. Who does dishes without hitting someone with the dish towel at least once?" Seth asked.

"Your dad used to hit you with a dish towel?" Dean asked confused.

"No, it was my mother. 'You missed a spot' and she hits me with the dish towel," Seth replied. He rubbed his arm.

"Why would Blake ask you how you were conceived?" Roman asked. Seriously, that's one strange kid; besides the suicidal and depression issues.

"I was conceived in an alley in broad daylight behind a dumpster in the bad part of town." Seth said, "I'm not sure about you guys."

Roman and Dean just gave him a confused look.

"Like I wanted to know," Roman said.

Dean shrugged, "My parents had been seeing each other at the time. They had broken up and my dad tried seeing other women. My mom had gotten really jealous and pissed off, that she ransacked his apartment. My mom's current boyfriend lived next door and heard everything." Dean explained and looked at his friends.

"Everything?" Roman asked.

Dean nodded, "_Everything._ My dad was forced by her parents to marry her right after I was born."

Seth and Roman just looked at him. Dean couldn't tell if they were thinking, 'Why would you tell us this' or 'that is seriously fucked up.'

"At least your parents don't get called dirty-street-hippies after that. Mine still do," Seth replied, after about a minute or two.

Dean wasn't sure how to respond to that, except, "I thought your parents were hippies."

"They're not hippies. Why do people think that?" Seth asked exasperated. "If they were I would probably be name something completely weird, like Cosmic or Energy or Life or something equally weird like that."

Roman wanted to change the subject before they start debating something and then have shit turn real. "So, did you teach your dog any new tricks?"

Dean shook his head, "No. I tried teaching him how to sit, but instead I taught my cats how to sit; by accident. My cats learned how to sit, my dog didn't."

"I'm so confused," Seth said. How did Dean teach his cats how to sit by accident?

"That's what I thought when my cats all sat down in unison when I told Morpheus to sit," Dean said. "Now every time I say sit, one of my cats sits down."

"How the hell did you do that?" Roman asked.

"I don't know," Dean said. "I truly don't know."

* * *

A/N: I mean no offense to anyone that has relatives that are hippies or know anyone that happens to be a hippie, or know anyone that has a hippie relative.

I got writer's block about half-way through and this came out as a result.

I have no clue if this made any sense at all.

Sorry if it had too much information that you were better off not knowing.


	4. Embarrassing Stories

Summary: To be a parent, you have to embarrass your kids by telling embarrassing stories about their childhood to their friends. Right?

* * *

Roman and Seth were at Dean's place.

Blake had his friends Dylan and Alex with him.

They were just sitting around and talking.

Dean seemed thoughtful about something, but the sound of rattling chains pulled him out of his thoughts.

Blake and Dean looked at each other.

Moaning started happening.

"The hell is that noise?" Dylan asked.

"That noise is hell," Alex said. He had his arm around Dylan's shoulders.

"No, that's the girl that lives across the street," Dean explained.

"What?" Seth asked confused.

"At midnight on a full moon, she always rattles chains and moans under a streetlight," Blake explained.

Seth, Roman, Dylan, and Alex went to the window. They pulled the curtains apart and looked outside.

Of course, the teenage girl from across the street was in the streetlight. She was holding a chain in each hand and was rattling the largest chain against the ground. She was waving the smallest chain in a circle. She was swaying and moaning. She placed one foot forward and shook her butt. She moved her other foot forward.

The guys closed the curtains and looked back at the other two.

"I was told that she started doing that when she was ten. She said that she felt like the moon had 'called' to her to do it," Blake explained.

"It could be puberty," Dylan stated.

Dean chose to ignore that as he decided to think. "Have I ever told you about Blake's first and only tantrum?"

Blake's cheeks turned red, "Yes you did."

Dylan grabbed a pillow from the floor and threw himself on the couch. "No he didn't." He placed the pillow under him as he lied on his stomach. Alex was sitting in front of Dylan.

"He was around two," Dean started to explain. Blake just sighed and sat down next to Dylan. Dylan reached over and patted Blake's shoulder. "My mom, Aunt Christina, Blake, and I were at the store. Blake wanted a toy, demanded for it twice, and then dramatically threw himself to the floor."

Roman and Seth just looked at each other.

"How is that embarrassing?" Roman asked.

"Aunt Christina asked him if that hurt and he said yes. She asked if he was going to do that again and he said no," Dean explained. "He never threw a tantrum after that."

"That's not embarrassing," Seth replied.

Dean looked thoughtful. "It was either that story or the one where he brought a water-hose in the house on full blast."

Blake just face-palmed, "I was five."

Dylan chuckled, "Seriously? Why would you bring in a water-hose?"

"I don't know. I guess I wanted to show my mom that I knew how to turn on a water-hose," Blake said and shrugged.

"No, you actually wanted to show her that you found something." Dean explained and grabbed his ear. "How about when you purposely flooded the boys' restroom when you were in the third grade? How did you do that?"

Blake's cheeks turned red. "I don't know why I did it. I continuously flushed the urinal and it flooded the restroom."

Dylan and Alex started cracking up. Roman and Seth looked at each other.

"Interesting," Seth said. "What happened afterwards?"

"They didn't know who did it." Blake said and smiled.

Dean, Roman, and Seth looked at each other.

Dylan reached over and patted Blake's shoulder, "Good job Blake."

"He also fell asleep in the bathtub when he was in the fifth grade," Dean said.

Blake covered his face with both hands, "No I didn't."

"I have a picture," Dean said and got up. "I'll go find it." Dean ran off down the hallway and Blake followed.

"I'll throat-punch you!" Blake shouted.

Roman and Seth looked at the other two boys. Dylan was running his hand through Alex's hair.

"So, how did you meet Blake?" Roman asked.

"Blake and I were in the same class for sixth grade. My first thought was 'damn, that guy's hot,' and then I became his friend." Dylan explained, "That crush was a lost cause."

Alex snorted and grinned. He reached up and nearly jabbed Dylan in the eye, "Sorry." He found a part of Dylan's hair and twisted it.

Nyx ran down the hallway, her claws scratching on the tiled floor that looked like wood. She skidded and ran to the couch. She jumped on Dylan, who grunted.

"I meet Blake and Dylan in the seventh grade. They usually hung out near the fence at lunch. I just hung out with them and they didn't question it," Alex explained.

"I did. My first thought was 'why is this guy hanging out with us again?' I didn't say anything because Blake was happy to have a new friend," Dylan said.

"Nice," Alex replied and Dean returned. He had a 5'2, black-haired, and suicidal fourteen year old attached to his back. The two were currently fighting over a picture. Nyx ran off into the kitchen and Dean nearly stepped on the cat.

"Here, take this picture before he bites me." Dean said, giving the picture to Roman and Seth.

Roman looked at it as Blake got down from Dean's back. He ran over and tried to take the picture from Roman. Instead, Blake fell over the other couch's arm and face-planted in the cushion that's between Seth and Roman.

"That was the most epic fail that I've ever seen," Alex said. He was still playing with Dylan's hair.

Roman passed the picture to Seth who grabbed it. Blake was still face-down on the cushion. "Can you please move?"

Blake got up, "Sorry."

It just showed a younger looking Blake, arms crossed, and asleep in the bathtub. His hair was really short and Seth handed the picture to Dylan. Alex and Dylan looked at it.

"I can't see you with hair that short," Alex said.

"Your hair was that short?" Dylan asked, surprised. He looked at Blake, then the picture, and then back at Blake. "Your hair was short?"

Dean took the picture back before Blake could grab it and burn it.

* * *

A/N: My older brother Eddie brought a water-hose in the house with it on full blast.

My other older brother David once flooded the boys' bathroom because he repeatedly flushed the urinal.

My dad once fell asleep in the bathtub, we had a picture taken, but we lost it when we moved.

I got the tantrum throwing from the website Not Always Related on a post called A Fall on Deaf Ears.

I got the rattling chains and moaning from the Sonic Ghost Commercial.


	5. Worries

Summary: A parent always worries about their child's well-being. To Dean, it happens a lot frequently after Blake attempted suicide.

* * *

Most people don't know this about Dean, but he worries a lot. It comes with the territory of being him and having a cousin/son that was fourteen.

He worries about his friends' well-beings; he even worries about Dolph at times. Sometimes he finds himself texting them if they were okay, at the ungodly hours (1:00 to 3:00 in the morning, Dean's mind supplied to him.) He worried about how they felt about that.

He felt better when he overheard Dolph saying that he felt great to have someone worrying about him.

He worries about his job and if he was a great wrestler that he thought he was.

He also worries about his dad and worries that he'll end up dead.

There was his mom and he worries that she might get killed because her husband is racist.

He mostly worried about Blake attempting suicide and cutting again.

So there he was, lying awake in the hotel bed, at one of the ungodly hours. It was 1:40 in the goddamn morning.

He just lied there, wondering if he should ask Blake if he ever needed someone to listen to him. He realized that it would be a bad idea, since Blake has to get ready for school in four hours.

"You're worrying again," Seth said and smacked Dean with a pillow.

Dean shot up in bed and looked at Seth. "What the fuck?"

"You're worrying about something," Seth said and sat on the hotel bed.

Dean would've asked them, 'how do you know,' but decided not to. He figured that he must have some look on his face or do something with his hands to show that was thinking about something.

"What are you worrying about?" Roman asked, sitting down on the bed too.

Dean figured that it won't hurt telling them. "I'm just worried that Blake would try to attempt suicide again."

Roman and Seth looked away.

"I'm sure that he won't do it again," Seth stated.

Dean wasn't sure what made him say, "I once overheard him say that he still wants to commit suicide."

Roman winced again and Seth looked away.

"Can you please…?" Seth started to say but trailed off.

Dean frowned, "Please what?"

"I lost my train of thought," Seth stated and frowned.

Dean looked at Seth, "You should get that checked out. Lapses in memory are a bad thing." He started touching Seth's hair, for something.

Seth started slapping Dean's hands away, "Stop that." Dean stopped and sat back down.

"I mean, I see your point on being worried. I'll be worried too." Roman said, "If my kid attempted suicide." Dean just nodded.

Seth looked thoughtful, "We're all worried about him. He's like my nephew and finding out that he's suicidal, worries me a lot."

Roman nodded, "Even Dolph is a bit worried about Blake."

Dean nodded, "Memories of one of his friends succeeding in committing suicide."

Seth and Roman looked at Dean.

"It's like you attract death," Roman stated.

"I also attract gay people," Dean stated. "It's like I have a magnet attached to me, that attracts gay people."

Seth and Roman looked at each other, and then back at Dean.

"Who says shit like that?" Seth asked.

"I do," Dean replied.

"Go to sleep." Roman said and turned the lamp off.

* * *

Dean found himself rocking back and forth on the floor in the corner of the room. It was 2:50 in the goddamn morning.

His mind decided to replay Blake's suicide attempt. There was the blood and the mostly empty bottle of pills.

Some might say that he's being overdramatic about it. He would tell them to find their closest cousin had attempted suicide by cutting their wrists and swallowing pills in the bathroom. Perhaps Dean would've throat-kicked them about it first.

His heart was still beating rapidly and he rubbed his eyes. He hated nightmares, especially that Rocky Road UFO. He wasn't sure what the hell was up with that dream. Now that he thinks about it, the Rocky Road UFO was dragging out the word 'Yum.'

The lamp turned on and Roman was squinting at him. "The hell is wrong with you now?"

Dean shook his head, "Nothing. I just enjoy rocking on the floor in the dark."

Roman gave Dean a weird look. "Are you okay? Your cheeks are red and puffy." Roman got out of bed and sat next to Dean.

"You know that I found Blake in my bathroom when he attempted suicide. Sometimes when I worry about him to much, my mind replays him lying on the floor…" Dean explained and trailed off. "There was blood on the floor, he was pale and cold. He also cut his wrists."

Seth made a shocked sound, as if he found out that Catering had made nachos. Roman and Dean looked at him confused. Seth was looking straight at them, "That poor child." Roman nodded and put his arm around Dean's shoulders. He gave him a squeeze. "You know? Sometimes I have weird dreams about Native Americans dancing around a bonfire, while chanting in a foreign language. I keep thinking that they're wishing death on me."

"Sometimes I have weird dreams that involve Theodore Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln, and me hunting down zombies with baseball bats, while the song Everybody Was Kung-Fu fighting playing," Roman offered.

"That or you both ate Jolly Ranchers before you went to bed," Dean said.

Seth was looking at them, "That is why half of the guys think you two are dating. John Cena is betting two hundred dollars that you're both bi and going to come out next week by saying that you're dating. The other half says that you two are really close friends and the others say they should mind their own business."

Roman and Dean just looked at him.

"That explains so much," Roman mused.

Seth threw a pillow at them. "Now that we're done sharing this emotional crap, get your asses to bed."

* * *

A/N: I have some pretty strange dreams about zombies at times. I remember Theodore Roosevelt appearing in one of my dreams holding a wooden baseball bat to help kill zombies.

I have other weird dreams after I eat Jolly Ranchers before bed.

I kind of figured Dean would have some nightmares after finding Blake half-dead on his bathroom floor.


	6. Bonding

Summary: Fathers help their teenage son make snowmen and soup as a way to bond with them.

* * *

Dean and Blake were sitting on the couch, watching Star Wars.

Dean was annoyed that Blake never saw Star Wars. He heard of it, but never bothered with it. Blake also got his middle name from one of the characters in the series.

So Dean forced him to watch the movies anyway.

Parents bond with their kids by watching Star Wars. Right?

Well Dean wanted to be that type of parent that is involved with their child's life. At least his dad tries doing that, after he got out of prison. Dean gives his dad points for trying.

* * *

Blake was spending the night as usual. Dean didn't mind as he sometimes gets lonely at times.

The teenager ran in Dean's room, startling Hestia and Ares that were curled up on the bed, and poked Dean's cheek.

"Wake up. It snowed," Blake said. He was getting excited. He started poking Dean's shoulders. "Are you sleeping?"

"Yes."

Blake frowned, "But you got to help me make a snowman."

"I'm sleeping." Dean muttered and rolled over so his back was facing Blake.

Blake frowned, "You're no fun."

"I eat fun like Pac-Man," Dean said. He waved Blake off, "Go build a snowman with Morpheus."

Blake frowned, "That hurts me."

"Sorry," Dean said.

* * *

Dean lied awake on the bed, petting Ares as he purred. He felt like a jerk by blowing off his new son off like that. When Dean was still living at home, and wanted to make homemade soup with his dad after Charles got out of prison, his dad would do it, no matter how tired he was.

He made his decision.

* * *

Blake rolled the snow on the ground. There was at least enough snow for a snowman or two. It wasn't snowing at the time, but he figured that it was okay.

All of a sudden, snow pelted his neck and ear. He looked to see Dean walking up and smiled.

"Come on child. Let's make the most badass snowman," Dean said.

Blake chuckled and Dean helped him roll the snow.

After they rolled the snow, it came out looking a little lumpy and slightly dented.

Dean tried to fix the snow as Blake made another ball of snow. "I think this is the best we can do for this part." Blake nodded and threw snow at Dean. It hit him in the arm. Dean looked back at him, "Blake Anakin Skywalker!" Blake felt his cheeks heat up. Dean continued, "If you're going to throw snowballs, at least aim higher."

Dean helped Blake put the ball snow on top of the other ball.

"Go find some rocks and sticks," Dean said.

Blake nodded and did as he was told. He found twelve rocks and two sticks. He only stopped in his mission to wave to Mike, Paul, and some woman.

__Who's that woman?__ Blake questioned and went back to Dean. He was trying to smooth out the lumps and dents. "Who's that woman?"

Dean looked to see who Blake was talking about. He clearly remembered who it was. "That's Mike's ex-wife," Dean said. "He told me that they sometimes have threesomes."

Blake's felt his eye twitch, "That was information that I could've lived without knowing."

"That's what I said when Mike told me that," Dean said. He rolled another ball of snow for the head and put it on top of the body.

Blake put the rocks on the body and Dean put the sticks in. Blake looked at the smiling snowman. "It needs something."

Dean nodded in agreement. "It needs a hat, gloves, a scarf, and sunglasses."

"Let's go find it," Blake said. They went inside the house to go find the things. They found the stuff and went to put it on the snowman. "I think I'll name it, Billy-Bob."

He had taken a picture to send to Roman and Seth. Dean just smiled, "Hey. I can show you how to make my dad's soup."

Blake just smiled.

* * *

Roman received a picture of a snowman. It had a Pepsi hat, a scarf, blue and yellow sunglasses, and pink stripped mittens on the sticks for hands.

There was a message that said, ****Billy-Bob the Snowman.****

Roman replied with, ****bonding with Blake?****

****Yes. Is that so wrong?****

****No. It's adorable.****

* * *

As Blake stirred the soup, Dean remembered making soup with his dad when he was still at home.

Dean received a reply from Seth: **_**_Bonding with Blake? Or were you just bored?_**_**

****Both, now we're making soup.****

**_**_Why don't you make us soup?_**_**

****You don't ask nicely.****

**_**_Please make us soup?_**_**

****No.****

__****Okay.****__

* * *

"What did your dad do to get arrested?" Blake asked. He was holding the bowl of soup and the two of them watched another Star Wars movie.

Dean was surprised that Blake didn't know. He always assumed, but apparently he didn't know. "He stabbed an innocent black man in the stomach. He got twelve years in prison for it."

Blake nodded, "That makes so much sense now."

Dean wasn't sure how that made sense. "How does that make sense?"

"I vaguely remember hearing that Uncle Charles talking about prison and getting arrested." Blake explained and Dean nodded. "I was too embarrassed to ask him about how he did."

That made some sense as Dean remembered his father talking about it in front of Blake at times. Blake was too young to understand at the time. Dean remembered that Blake used to brag about how his uncle was cool since he got arrested, when he was in the second grade.

Not that it was something to brag about now.

Blake looked out the window, "We should make a mini snowman."

Dean shrugged, "Sure."

They went outside and Blake started rolling some snow. Dean found some twigs and rocks.

After Blake finished making the snowman, Dean put the twigs and rocks on it.

"It needs a nose," Blake said and Dean went inside. He came out holding a baby carrot and stuck it in the mini snowmen's face. "I think it needs a scarf too,"

Dean went inside and found two pieces of fabric. He put the longest piece around the snowman's neck and the small piece on the snowman's head, "There."

* * *

A/N: It snowed in Reno, and my brother made two snowmen with his friends.

They named the biggest one Billy-Bob, and didn't name the mini snowman. My brother sent me pictures.

They're lucky that it snows there. It doesn't even snow in the town that I live in which is in California, except once when my brother was in the first grade.

My dad and I make soup together too, when he has a day-off and when we have money for the ingredients.


	7. Forts

Summary: When Blake gets sick from playing in the snow; it's up to Seth and Roman to take care of their nephew.

* * *

Dean had gone to bail his father out of prison for his mother. He had to leave Blake behind because he got sick after they had played in the snow the other day. Dean had called up Seth and Roman to take care of Blake for him.

That's how Seth and Roman found themselves at Dean's house, having to take care of a sick teenager. They have no experience in taking care of teenagers.

"He doesn't trust you alone?" Seth asked Blake.

Blake looked at his Doctor Who throw-blanket that Dean bought him a few weeks ago. It had the TARDIS on it. He honestly has no clue why Dean bought him the blanket, but he guessed that Dean just wanted to buy him something nice. He looked up at Seth, "He once left me alone for thirty minutes. Does that count?"

"I guess it does." Roman said and went into the kitchen.

"Have you found a girlfriend yet?" Seth asked. He knew about Blake's asexuality, but he was curious to know if it was true or not.

Blake looked uncomfortable at the topic of conversation, "No."

"What does Dean have in the cupboard under the sink?" Seth asked, changing topics.

Blake shrugged, "I don't know."

Roman returned and looked at Blake. "Do you want any soup or…"

Blake waved it off, "Not right now." He put his hands on his stomach. "I'm tired." He was asleep instantly.

Seth looked at Roman. "How come he doesn't know what's under the sink?"

Roman looked at Seth, "Seriously? You're asking me that?"

Seth shrugged as he rolled his eyes. "Now what do we do?"

Roman just shrugged and then Blake woke up, "I'll take that soup now." Roman nodded and went back in the kitchen.

Seth followed, "How do we take care of a sick kid?"

"Like how we take care of each other?" Roman offered, even though he had no clue either. Do teenagers have different needs than adults?

"I should throw cough-drops at him?" Seth asked; a little horrified at the thought of throwing of throwing cough-drops at a kid.

"No," Roman said. "That's illegal."

Blake was looking at them from the opening in the wall. He was lying on the couch, and was staring at them. "I can see and hear everything, you know."

Seth and Roman just smiled at him sheepishly.

"Sorry. But really, you don't know what's in there?" Seth asked, pointing at the cupboard under the sink.

Blake just looked at Seth, "Nope." He went back to his spot on the couch.

"I think he's been spending way to much time with Dean," Roman said.

* * *

"Here, do you think you can keep the soup down this time?" Seth asked, as he gave another bowl of soup to Blake.

"No," Blake replied.

"Fine, I'll eat it." Seth replied. He didn't care about puking; he just didn't like having to clean up someone else's puke.

"Now what do we do?" Roman asked.

Blake looked at his blanket, "We can make a fort."

Roman looked at Blake, "Let's do that."

The two men ran over to get chairs, except Blake. He still felt like crap, but at least he wasn't lying on the couch. He was aware that his hair was messy and tangled. He wanted to dye streaks in his hair again.

After they got the chairs set up, they looked at Blake.

"Hey, do you have anything else to hold the blankets up?" Seth asked.

"I think Dean has some hockey sticks by his bed," Blake asked.

"Hockey sticks?" Roman asked, "What does he need hockey sticks for?"

"Some idiot decided he wanted to try breaking into his house. That didn't end well for the guy." Blake said and smiled. "I'll go get them." He went to the room.

Seth looked at the TARDIS blanket, "I really want that blanket."

"Dean will throat-punch you if you took that blanket from Blake," Roman stated.

Seth sighed, "I know. Why doesn't he buy us things?"

Roman replied with, "Because you don't ask nicely."

Seth looked at Roman, "No need to channel Dean. That was creepy."

Blake returned holding the hockey sticks. "Here we go."

Roman and Seth grabbed the sticks. Roman looked at the one hockey stick, "Does he need five?"

"He believes Paul is a retired assassin." Blake said, and he looked at Roman. "You really believe that he thinks he needs one hockey stick?"

"Good point," Seth said.

"We need blankets," Roman said. Blake nodded and wandered off. Seth was looking at the blanket again. Roman pointed at Seth, "You will _not_ still a kid's blanket. What the hell is the matter with you, you heathen?"

"Sorry, I really want that blanket," Seth said.

Blake returned and the three started to build the fort. At first the blanket kept dipping in the middle, but they moved the chairs farther apart.

Seth decided to make polite conversation, "So, Blake. Have you seen Lord of the Rings?"

"No." Blake said, "I'm trying to read the books though. I rather read the books first, before watching the movies. You know how movies change things from the books; like in Percy Jackson. Dean kept getting mad that I kept pointing out the changes. He told me to shut up and watch the movie. Repeatedly, although I'm not sure why," he shrugged.

Seth and Roman remembered how Dean ranted about how it was hard to watch a movie that was based off a book that Blake had read.

"That would get annoying," Roman said.

"I know. It made me mad when they made Percy and his friends sixteen," Blake replied. "I found out that they never read the books. Who does that?"

Roman didn't have the heart to tell Blake that he meant someone pointing out the changes in movies that were based off of books.

* * *

Dean returned and looked at the fort in the middle of the living room.

_The hell?_ Dean thought and looked at his friends for clarification on why a fort was in the middle of the living room.

Seth and Roman were asleep on the two couches. Dean guessed the Blake was in the bedroom. Seth was holding the TARDIS blanket and Dean walked over.

"Seth, I will punch you in the neck if you steal that blanket." Dean threatened and Seth handed the blanket to Dean.

Dean grabbed it and went to his bedroom. Blake was on top of the bed. Blake was half asleep when he said, "They stole the couches."

Dean tossed the blanket to Blake. "I know."

Blake grabbed a pillow and the blanket. He rolled off the bed and Dean winced. He went to go check on Blake, but he was out cold.

_At least the floor's carpeted,_ Dean thought.

* * *

A/N: My brother sent me two pictures of the fort that he and his friends made.

One of his friends has a Doctor Who blanket. It has the TARDIS on it.

I guess one of them watches Doctor Who.


	8. Birthday

Summary: Alex's birthday is in three days. Blake doesn't know what to get him. Dean is there to help his son figure something out for Alex.

* * *

"Are you coming to my birthday?" Alex asked Blake, as they walked down the hallway.

Blake scoffed, "I'm offended that you think that I'm not going."

"Well, you usually hang out with Dean at times," Alex replied. "I just thought…"

"No offense, but you thought wrong. I'm going to be there," Blake said.

Alex looked at Blake, "As long as you don't shove my face in the cake again."

Blake smiled, "That's what my dad did to me when I was ten. I proceeded to shove the cake in his face and the rest fell on top of my head."

Alex looked thoughtful, "I wish I was there." Blake chuckled.

"Hey Suicidal and Faggot, hurry up! You don't own the fucking hallway!" A boy shouted from behind them.

Alex and Blake looked at the spot next to Alex. It was empty as some other students walked right by them.

"Faggot? Wow, that's original," Alex replied. "Come back later when you have original insults, you overgrown gorilla."

They continued walking and Blake dared to look back. The guy that had been behind him was just standing there, open mouthed.

"He just called me an overgrown gorilla!" The boy shouted to his friends.

* * *

_Maybe I should make cookies,_ Blake thought as he dried a bowl in the Intro to Food's kitchen. He put the bowl up as his two tablemates chopped onions and peppers. Their other tablemate was gone.

The girl handed Blake a knife, "Here, finish chopping the peppers for me."

Blake looked at the French knife, with wide eyes. "My mom never lets me go near knives anymore."

The girl looked a little distressed and grabbed the knife from Blake. She handed it to their tablemate, who looked confused.

"Keep this from Blake," She said and went to the teacher.

The boy handed the knife back to Blake, "Chop the peppers." Blake did just that.

* * *

"Which card should I get him?" Blake asked as he looked at the cards.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know your friend." He was standing there looking at the cards.

"What should I get him?" Blake asked.

"The Lord of the Rings books," Dean said.

Blake waved it off, "He read those books."

Dean shrugged again, "Game of Thrones."

"He doesn't care too much for those books." Blake said as he waved it off.

"Does he like cupcakes or something?" Dean asked.

"I think there's going to be cupcakes," Blake replied.

"Does he like Harry Potter?" Dean asked and looked down at Blake.

Blake looked thoughtful, "He read the entire series."

Dean grinned, "How about Fifty Shades of Grey?"

Blake slowly turned his head up to look at Dean. "I seriously hope that you're joking."

Dean nodded, "I was."

"I don't know what to get him," Blake replied. "I'm his friend. Is that good enough?"

Dean looked back at Blake. "You know I barely had friends in high school."

Blake nodded, "I know. But you have friends now too." Dean nodded as Blake went back looking at the birthday cards. Blake looked at Dean, "How come you barely had friends?"

"Liking Star Wars gets you shunned," Dean replied.

"Okay." Blake replied and looked back at the cards.

* * *

Blake didn't know how to roller skate; Uncle Charles and Aunt Robin could agree to that. Also there were the numerous times he had fallen down on the rink and Uncle Charles had to help him up. Now his uncle is banned from the skating rink because he punched some white man in the face because Blake had fallen down again.

Blake pointed to his uncle's picture that was on the wall. "Hey, that's my uncle."

Dylan and Alex looked at the picture.

"Your uncle looks like a country singer," Dylan replied.

Blake shrugged, "Yeah. People mistake him as one at times."

"What did he do?" Alex asked.

"Uncle Charles punched a man because he laughed at me when I fell down," Blake explained.

"Your family is so screwed up," Dylan replied.

"Manners Dylan," Alex said.

Blake shook his head. "No, it's true."

* * *

Blake handed Alex the present that he got him. The present was wrapped in blue Christmas gift wrap. It looked like a rectangular book.

"You got me a book?" Alex asked.

Dylan looked at Blake, "Why does it have Christmas gift wrap?"

Blake stared, "It's the only thing that I had left over."

Alex pulled the gift wrap off and looked at the box of Spongebob Macaroni. He looked at Blake confused. He smiled anyway, "Thanks for the macaroni."

Dylan looked at Blake, "Interesting."

Blake just smiled, "I'm kidding." He took out a box-set shaped present. He handed it to Alex, "Here."

Alex looked at Blake confused and grabbed the present. He opened it and looked at the Lord of the Rings series. He looked at Blake, "I read these."

"But you keep checking the books out from the school library. Now you can have the books," Blake said. He was getting worried and nervous. Maybe it was a bad idea to get the box-set for Alex. When he was at the mental hospital, he overheard his therapist mention that he was 'emotionally fragile', 'suicidal inclined', and 'self-mutilation obsessed.'

Alex hugged him anyway and smiled, "Thanks bro." Blake hugged his friend in relief.

Dylan smiled, "So, are you keeping the Spongebob Macaroni?"

Alec released Blake and grabbed the box, "Yeah." He put the box on the table. "Come on, let's go." He skated into the rink with Dylan. Blake managed to 'glide' to the edge of the rink and got in. He used the edge of the wall and dragged himself around.

Dylan and Alex looked at each other. They skated over and grabbed Blake's arms. They dragged him to the middle and held onto him as they dragged him around the rink.

_At least,_ Blake thought, _I'm not falling down anytime soon._

* * *

A/N: I can't skate at all. I used to fall down when my ex-best friend had her birthday at Roller Town.

I used to hold onto this wall thing and pull myself around the rink because I couldn't skate.

Nobody laughed at me and nobody got banned.

I still feel uncomfortable typing the word 'faggot' but it was needed.


	9. Ice Cream

Summary: Dean gets Blake some ice cream when his son is having trouble sleeping. They end up watching movies to pass the time and hope that Blake can fall asleep.

* * *

Blake tossed and turned on the couch. He held onto his TARDIS blanket as turned to the left to face the back of the couch. He turned to the right side and face planted the pillow. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head of thoughts. He got up and hit the pillow.

_Was the pillow always this uncomfortable?_ Blake wondered and lied back down. His thoughts traveled to his friends. _What do they do when I'm not around? Do they still hang out like we always do, but with kissing or something? _

Hades jumped on top of Blake and looked at him, as if saying 'stop scratching your arm, slave.' That was when Blake noticed that he was scratching his arm. He decided that he was annoyed at the fact that he was scratching his arm and couldn't sleep.

He lied there staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out why he exists.

He noticed how Dean went straight into the kitchen and the refrigerator opened. It closed and Blake got up, holding onto Hades. He went in the kitchen and saw Dean open a Hershey's bar.

He stood behind Dean and looked at the Hershey's bar. "Do you want to share?"

Dean looked at Blake. "You got to try harder to scare me. You make elephants seem quiet." He broke the chocolate bar and handed the bigger piece to Blake.

"Thanks," Blake said.

"What are you doing up?" Dean asked. It was one in the morning. Okay, it was high time past late.

"Can't sleep," Blake said. "You?"

"Can't sleep either," Dean replied. Actually, he was sleeping just fine, but then he really wanted to have some chocolate.

"Okay," Blake said. "Should we watch a movie or something?"

Dean shrugged, "Sure."

* * *

The movie that they had agreed on was Now You See Me. Dean wanted to see a different movie, but agreed to watch it.

"How do they do that?" Blake asked, confused. Apparently they somehow managed to rig a building to look like the inside of a bank.

Dean shrugged, "I don't know."

"Okay, what's the point of _that_ scene?" Blake asked, as another woman lifted up some other woman's shirt to flash someone.

"Can you please pause it?" Dean asked.

Blake grabbed the remote and pressed the pause/play button. It didn't work. He pressed it again. "How do I remote?" He managed to pause the movie and Dean got up. He went into the kitchen and the door to the fridge opened.

A few minutes later, Dean returned holding two bowls of Neapolitan ice cream. He handed one bowl to Blake.

Dean looked out the window, the curtains were slightly parted. "I need to mow my lawn before the military asks to use it as a training base, again."

_Again? _Blake thought confused. _Where was I when that happened?_ Blake decided that he didn't want to know. Maybe one day, but not at the moment where he might crash out from lack of sleep.

* * *

"I still don't know how that girl made the chair spin around by itself," Dean complained.

Blake shrugged and looked at the empty bowl. "I don't know."

Dean looked at Blake, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I unconsciously scratch my arms. Is that normal?" Blake asked.

"Fleas?" Dean offered, although he wasn't sure either.

Blake just shrugged, "Should we watch another movie?"

"Sure," Dean replied.

* * *

"I don't get the point of this movie," Blake replied. They were currently watching Maximum Overdrive.

"I used to love this movie when I was in high school." Dean replied, annoyed. "I think he said that he made this movie when he did cocaine." Dean looked straight at Blake, "One reason to stay away from drugs."

Blake was confused and looked at the movie. "That explains a lot on why this movie is weird."

"Or seems like it was made on drugs," Dean replied. He looked at the movie and cringed.

A few scenes later:

"Stupid demented ice cream truck," Blake replied.

"Stupid demented toy truck," Dean said.

A few scenes later:

"Why did I like this movie?" Dean asked, more to himself. Why did he like this movie, again? Was it the plot of the machines taking over the world? Or was it the fact that Stephen King has used songs from AC/DC for his movie? Or did Dean like seeing the AC/DC truck in the beginning of the movie?

Blake shrugged, "How should I know?"

Dean shrugged, "I'm still confused."

Blake went to get more ice cream as Dean paused the movie. He knew there was a reason why he liked this movie; he didn't know what it was.

Another scene:

"He knows Morse Code?" Dean asked confused. He looked at Blake, "Do you know Morse Code?"

Blake looked at Dean confused, "No. What use do I have for Morse Code?"

Dean had to agree with that; besides using it while in the military.

He still didn't understand why he liked this movie.

Later:

After the movie ended, Dean now knew why he liked this movie; it involved a UFO.

That thought just pissed him off a lot.

He looked at Blake, who was sprawled out on the couch, asleep. It was four in the morning and Dean nearly groaned.

Dean looked out the part in the curtain. He really needed to mow before the military decided to use his lawn as a training base again.

He looked back at Blake; he didn't know when he fell asleep. Dean stood up, and grabbed the bowl that Blake had placed on the floor. He grabbed the TARDIS blanket and put it over the fourteen year old.

Dean patted Blake on the shoulder and went to the kitchen. He noticed that Azrael was in the sink, giving _him_ a dirty look, as if _he_ invaded Azrael's space.

"You're the one in my sink, you crazy cat." Dean replied and Azrael slowly blinked at him. It looked like Azrael gave him the evil eye.

Dean was sure that it meant, _'Shut up human. I didn't tell you to speak. I am the Archangel Death! Don't talk to me.'_

"That was rude," Dean replied.

* * *

A/N: I watched the movie Maximum Overdrive with my mom. I remember a little bit of the movie, especially that scene with the soda machine and that steamroller scene.

I read online that Stephen King admitted that he made the movie while on cocaine. No offense to people that love the movie.

I also saw the movie Now You See Me.

I got writer's block.


	10. Motherhood

Warning: Long speech up ahead.

* * *

Summary: When Christina hears her son and his two friends get insulted, she has a stern lecture for the bully, his friends, and his parents. She will not tolerate bullying.

* * *

Christina knew that she wasn't the ideal parent. She didn't know the date when Blake would be born, and she ended up giving birth in the middle of the circus, during the performance. Blake gets two percent off because of that.

She gives Blake more lunch money than necessary. Maybe she should stop dropping Blake off at Dean's place all the time.

Despite all that, she does care about Blake.

She cried when she found out Blake had attempted suicide when she visited him in the hospital, she went to the hospital when Blake got hit by a car, she was pissed off when that woman insulted Dean when he was fifteen, she plans for Blake's birthday and where they would celebrate, and she enjoys taking him out to eat, just the two of them.

* * *

Blake, Christina, Dylan, and Alex were at a store. Her plan was to get some things to make homemade enchiladas with the three boys. She was in the next aisle, getting some Chile sauce and tortillas when she heard the insults.

There was the common insult 'faggots,' 'homos,' 'emo,' and 'suicidal.' Christina knew that it was directed towards her son and his friends. She nearly dropped the can in rage. She forced herself to count to ten, before she starts knocking things over while cussing.

"You know, suicidal people don't deserve to be in this world. It's just overpopulating the planet." The boy continued his rant. "Suicidal people are just weak. If you want to die, die already! We don't need homos and suicidal people around!"

__Who the hell says shit like that?__ Christina thought, getting more pissed off. She decided that she had to intervene.

She turned the corner in the aisle. There were three boys and her three. Two of the boys looked ashamed and guilty. The one boy that probably insulted them, looked a little proud, and annoyed.

"Hey. What did you just call my son?" Christina demanded. The one boy, who initiated the insults shrugged, as he looked at her, as if she __insulted him__. The stupid brat! "You know what? Don't. I heard you loud and clear. Now, I won't be like your parent or those bystanders, who say that it's impolite to insult someone. But I'm not like __those__ bystanders or __those__ parents who can't raise a child worth a damn."

"I'm going to say something. Imagine your two friends, one being in the closet, and the other who's secretly cuts and has depression." The boy looked offended. "I'm saying __imagine__, I'm not insulting your nonexistent masculinity. Imagine your friend that's in the closet has to listen to you whine, complain, and bitch about homosexuality being gross and wrong. Imagine how he has to listen to you insult the homosexuals day in and day out, like you're doing right now." The boy crossed his arms and looked at Christina.

"Imagine your friend that is secretly depressed. Imagine that he has to listen to you bitch, moan, and complain about how they should commit suicide because they're weak. Imagine your friend listening to you say that they should be rounded up. Imagine your friend listening to you say that they should be placed in a camp and shot at day in and day out because they'll be doing them a favor." The bully looked uncomfortable.

"Does that remind you of anything? Imagine your friends end up committing suicide after hearing that. Imagine living with that guilt that you helped your friends kill themselves. One due to be called weak-minded and they don't deserve a place in this world. The other kills himself, because his friend won't accept him if he came out, being called gross, and a bunch of insults."

Christina pointed at the bully. "Shame on you. Shame on you, because you help aid all these poor innocent teens and adults kill themselves. Shame on you because you can't accept the fact and tolerate that people who are different from you. You say that the world doesn't need them? Well, the world doesn't need people like you. People like you don't deserve to live in this world."

Christina turned towards the boy's two friends. "Shame on you both. You don't like your friend's bullying, I can see it. You should be ashamed of yourselves for not sticking up for the people __he__ insulted."

Christina looked back at the boy. "I'm offended. My family has a history of depression and committing suicide. I'm offended that you say that my family doesn't deserve to be on this world."

Christina noticed the boy's parents. "Shame on you both, for not raising __your son__ to be more accepting of everyone. I may not be a good mother, my son may not know his father, his cousin became his father-figure, his uncle is racist, and I may have gave birth to him in a circus, at least my son knows better than to insult people to make himself feel better. He may be suicidal, but at least he accepts everyone. It's something you child should learn."

Christina straightened up and looked straight at the parents. "Good day to you __Sir__ and __Ma'am__." She looked straight at the boy. "If I hear how my son and his friends are getting bullied because of you, hear them say how it makes them feel bad, I'm going to hunt you down and chop off your pathetic excuse of manhood, and you two. Grow a backbone or get away from him; unless you want to be guilty by association when someone does commit suicide because of him when you did nothing."

Christina looked at Blake, Dylan, and Alex. "Come on children. I'll take you somewhere to eat because I can."

After they left the store, Blake hugged his mother. Christina was cut off guard, but she hugged her son back.

Blake rarely hugged her, except on special occasions. "Thanks Mom." He felt a tear roll down his cheek. "I love you."

Christina kissed the top of Blake's head, "I love you too, Blake."

Alex put his arm around Dylan's shoulders and gave him a squeeze. He kissed Dylan on the lips quickly, before some bystander gets offended for some reason.

* * *

A/N: I warned you, long speech/rant up ahead.

I had this idea of adding Christina in the story by having her defend her son in his time of need.

The resulting speech/rant came to mind when I was washing my hair.


	11. Lakes

Summary: Christina, Charles, Robin, Dean, and Blake spend some family time together. They go to a lake to celebrate Charles's birthday, as Dean and Blake get up to some mischief.

* * *

Dean remembered the lake very well. His mother and father used to take him there when he was younger. Charles had shown him the little area where there were tadpoles.

They had taken a bucket of the tadpoles to their home, but the next day they were gone. His mother had taken them to a canal to got rid of them, because she didn't want frogs around the house.

When Charles had gone to prison, Dean and Robin barely went to the lake. The last time they did was when Blake was nine and ran into the lake. Blake couldn't swim and didn't know how deep it was.

Now that Dean was thinking about it; perhaps that was an early suicide attempt and Blake didn't know that yet.

They decided not to mention that anymore after Blake tried to commit suicide.

* * *

It was Charles's birthday and he wanted to go to the lake to barbeque. He wanted a normal family outing, that doesn't involve his gang.

It started when Christina and Blake showed up. Robin and Dean were getting the stuff ready to head out. Charles was still asleep in the bedroom.

"He's still asleep?" Robin asked, annoyed.

"I guess," Dean said.

"I'll wake him up." Robin said and went to the room. "Charles!"

Dean handed Blake a stack of paper plates and a bag of plastic silverware.

"He always does that." Dean said, "Especially over the holidays, when we had to show up at your place. That pisses me off."

Blake put the plates and plastic silverware in a bag. Blake nodded in agreement. "It was annoying waiting almost three hours for you to show up."

Dean put a container of potato salad in an ice chest and whispered, "He's old."

"I'm still the only kid here," Blake replied. "I should've invited Dylan and Alex."

Dean shrugged, "I don't know how he feels about bisexual teenagers."

"I'm racist, not homophobic," Charles declared. "You should've invited your friends. I would like to meet them one day."

Blake looked thoughtful. "I'll think about it."

"Good. I don't want to die before I meet your friends; you too, Dean. I want to meet your friends too," Charles replied.

"My friends are different races," Dean replied confused.

"I would still like to meet them," Charles said. "They're your friends. I won't insult them." He went outside.

Dean leaned to Blake, "Is that weird to you too?"

Blake shook his head, "No. I guess he really wants to meet our friends."

Dean nodded, "Okay." He decided not to ask. Robin returned and helped Dean with packing up the food.

* * *

Blake was sitting at a table at the lake. Dylan had texted him about a fight that he and Alex just had. Dylan didn't know what to do and wanted some advice from Dean.

"Hey, Dylan and Alex had a fight. Dylan needs your advice," Blake explained.

Dean just looked at Blake, confused. "I don't know. I never…I don't know how to help."

"Tell him to man up and talk about their problems," Charles replied.

"Okay." Blake replied and gave Dylan that advice.

Blake got a reply.

**No. I refuse to talk to him.**

Charles looked at that reply and grabbed Blake's phone.

"Dad," Dean warned. He didn't want his dad to traumatize a fifteen year old boy.

"Quiet son, I'm being a father." Charles replied and sent Dylan a reply.

_**Stop being a pussy and be a man. Apologize!**_

Dylan replied with:** O.o Okay.**

Charles handed Blake his phone back. "There."

A few minutes later, Blake got a reply.

**Help! I just told Alex that he's a bastard, and that I want to sacrifice him to the Celtic Gods. Is that natural? What do I do?**

Blake didn't know how to reply to that.

A few minutes later Blake got a reply from Alex.

_**Dylan told me that he wants to sacrifice me to Celtic Gods. I'm concerned.**_

Blake replied: _**Talk to him.**_

* * *

Dean had gotten bored and went to look at the canoes. Alex didn't reply to Blake for a few minutes, so he followed Dean.

Dean found two oars and handed one to Blake, "Let's sword-fight."

"Okay," Blake replied.

They started to have a sword-fight.

"Careful Dean! Don't hurt him to much!" Christina warned Dean.

"I will!" Dean called back.

They continued their sword-fight by backing up and moving forward. Somehow, Blake slipped and face-planted in the lake water.

Dean just couldn't help himself by saying, "Water you waiting for?"

Blake got up and looked at Dean. "That was the most horrible pun ever."

Dean looked at Blake's wet shirt, "Let's go dry you up." He led Blake to the restroom.

* * *

Dean had to wash out some mud from Blake's hair.

"I don't know why guys like long hair like this," Dean replied. Blake just crossed his arms.

Charles entered the restroom holding a bag, "Here. Christina figured that Blake would somehow end up in the lake and brought clean clothes with her." Charles handed Blake the bag of clothes.

Blake gave him a smile, "Thanks."

"Why are you thanking me for? It was your mom who brought the clothes. I was just giving it to you." Charles said, giving Blake a weird look.

"Dad," Dean replied.

In a mocking tone, Charles said, "Dean." He left the restroom.

Blake went in a stall to change his shirt.

* * *

"Pass the potato salad," Robin said. Blake slid the container of potato salad to Robin. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Blake replied. He didn't get any replies from his friends, but he hoped that they were making up. Or at least talking about what caused the fight. He decided not to bother them or ask.

"We should go racing those canoes," Dean said.

"And have Blake face-plant in the water again?" Christina replied.

Blake looked at his mother, "I don't know how I slipped."

Robin looked at the canoes. "I don't trust those canoes. They look run-down."

"I'm imagining myself falling in the lake if I use the canoes," Blake replied. He took a bite out of a bread roll.

* * *

"Why would the military use your yard as a training base?" Charles asked Dean. Dean was carrying Blake over his shoulder, because he fell asleep on the car ride back.

"I haven't mowed my lawn in four months because I was gone," Dean asked. "It began to look like a jungle."

"What happened?" Charles asked.

"I was at home, there was a knock on the door, and there they were. They asked if they could use it for training. I said yes, because I couldn't turn them down," Dean explained. He put Blake on the couch.

"Is he like a son to you?" Charles asked.

"Yeah," Dean replied.

* * *

A/N: I got this massive case of writer's block. I wanted to do a story that involves them, but I couldn't find how to put it in words.

My mom likes to remind how when I was younger, I ran into a lake during winter. She brought some clothes because she knew I was going to run in the lake. We had to go home before I got sick. I vaguely remember my brothers bringing home tadpoles when we went to a lake.

I was texting my friend, and he gave me an idea to have Dean and Blake have a sword-fight with the canoe paddles. Then I decided to have Blake slip and fall in the lake. My friend told me to have Dean do a pun. I came up with 'Water you waiting for?' He said 'yes, yes, yes.'

So, my friend, this chapter is for you.


	12. Sleeveless

Summary: Blake decides that he wants to stop wearing long-sleeves. His mom, Dylan, Alex, Dean, Roman, and Seth are there for him.

* * *

Maybe it was impulse decision. Maybe Blake wanted to see how his classmates and how the teachers would react when they realize that it was worse than they thought. Maybe he wanted everyone to see how 'screwed up' he was in the head. Maybe he was tired of hiding his scars. Maybe it was the warm weather that caused him to decide to go without sleeves.

He didn't know what made him go sleeveless and it made his heart pound, seeing the scars. He wanted to put on a long-sleeved shirt back on. He didn't put a long-sleeve shirt on and he looked at his scars.

The deeper vertical scar on both wrists was a reminder that he tried to end his life. A reminder on how 'stupid' he felt trying to end his life. A part of him wanted to try again and again to end it all. He didn't want to put his dad through pain of losing his only other relative.

He didn't like his scars; it was a reminder to him on how he needed someone to listen.

* * *

Christina was surprised to see Blake without long-sleeves. It wasn't a shock since she did see him without long-sleeves on at times, but he usually wore something covering his arms. This time, he was revealing his scars and a bit of happiness spread in her. She was so proud she could cry.

Blake looked uncertain and possible regretting his decision.

"Are you okay?" Christina asked.

Blake shook his head, "No."

Christina wasn't sure. "You can put a long-sleeved shirt on."

Blake shook his head. "I'm going to try to go sleeveless."

Christina ruffled Blake's black shoulder-length hair. "Maybe you could do something with that hair."

"No," Blake replied. He liked his hair just fine.

* * *

Apparently Dylan and Alex made up after Dylan wanted to sacrifice Alex to the Celtic gods.

Blake wasn't sure what the fight was about and didn't want to ask questions. Sort of.

"Sacrificing him to the Celtic gods?" Blake asked, looking at Dylan, really confused.

"Hey, you're not wearing long-sleeves," Dylan replied. He changed the topics and looked at Blake's arms. He grabbed one of Blake's arms and looked at the scars. He looked at the scars before when he was making sure he wasn't cutting again. Somehow it was different. He didn't know why.

"Celtic gods, Dylan," Blake replied.

"I was pissed off and was looking into Celtic myth," Dylan replied. He was touching the scars and Blake pulled his arms away.

"Why?" Alex asked. Maybe was still mad at getting told that he's going to be sacrificed to Celtic gods.

"I was bored," Dylan replied.

"How come you're not wearing sleeves?" Alex asked changing subjects.

Blake shrugged, "I wanted to." Dylan pulled Blake into a hug. "Did you just kiss the side of my head?"

"Sorry." Dylan said, as his cheeks warmed up.

"It's okay," Blake replied. Alex was standing there, looking uncomfortable and Blake held one arm out towards him. Alex smiled and went to hug his friends.

* * *

It felt like people were staring at his arms, Blake wasn't sure if they were or he was paranoid.

Maybe Dean rubbed off of him.

He didn't know and looked at the scars on his arms. He accumulated two years worth of them.

Blake noticed a boy staring at the scars on his arms, "What?" The teacher was writing something on the board and Blake was trying to take notes.

"Wow. You're really fucked up," The boy said. Some kids near Blake and Eric, gave Eric a dirty look.

"Eric! Stop staring at someone's scars! That's impolite!" The teacher Mrs. Chambers ordered. "And it's impolite telling someone they're messed up! It's also impolite making fun of someone's disorder!"

"I didn't make fun of him," Eric countered.

"You told him that he's messed up. How is that not making fun of someone?" Mrs. Chambers demanded and Eric sank down in his desk. "I should write you up for that. Go wait out in the hall." Eric left the classroom and Blake sat there confused. Mrs. Chambers looked at Blake, "Except for you, dear. Continue with writing the notes down."

Mrs. Chambers went to her desk and took out a notepad of orange-red paper and started writing a referral.

Blake felt eyes on him and looked down at his desk. He had the sudden urge to leave the classroom in embarrassment.

* * *

"The Happy Birthday thing is vaguely Satanic," Roman said. They were walking up to Dean's house.

"It kind of is," Seth replied.

"What makes you think that?" Dean asked.

"Think about it." Roman explained, "You're in a circle around a burning object. You sing a song in unison. The fire is blown out and you stab the object."

"I bet you were fun at parties," Dean replied. He wasn't sure if he should be concerned or not.

"Have you been to parties?" Seth asked, suspiciously.

"No. My friends were those people who read the original Shakespeare scripts while high," Dean said. "This one chick got all philosopher-like on us; which wasn't that much of a difference. Except that she talked slower and had red eyes."

"I bet you were that exciting group," Roman said.

"No. I left when they started pulling out their drugs and went to the park." Dean explained and opened the door to his house.

Blake was lying on the couch and Dean wasn't surprised at all. The only thing that was surprising was that Blake wasn't wearing long-sleeves at all.

"I see you're not wearing long-sleeves," Dean pointed.

Blake nodded and stood up. He walked to his dad and hugged him. Dean hugged him back. "Some people are calling me wrist-slasher."

Seth and Roman looked at each other. It made Seth feel like he was intruding in a private matter and Roman was just awkward as hell.

"It's going to be okay," Dean replied. "They're just morons who get off on insulting somebody."

Seth and Roman nodded.

"Ignore them. They have nothing better to do then insult somebody," Seth said. "It's like high school for me all over again. My parents get called hippies too."

Dean gave him a weird look and released Blake. "I'll be right back." He went in the kitchen.

"Ignore them. They have nothing better to do." Roman said and ruffled Blake's hair.

"You have friends and family that care about you." Seth said and patted Blake on the shoulder.

"Just agree with everything they say. They have no 'fire' if you agree with those insults." Dean explained, as he was holding Azrael. "I keep finding him in my sink." Blake grabbed the cat.

"Okay," Blake said.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the long wait for an update.

I would say that I got writer's block, but I didn't.

I figured that Blake needed to remove the long-sleeves.

The cake and philosopher conversation are the type of conversations that my friends and I have.


	13. Reading, Interrupted

Summary: Sometimes all Dean wants to do is sit around and read a book. Apparently people don't agree with him reading when they interrupt him. Blake just wants to sit by himself in the school library, but has other students asking him questions instead.

* * *

Blake really hates it when he's trying to read a book, but can't get through one page without having someone interrupt him.

Like for instance, he decided he would spend a few minutes eating with his friends before going to the school library.

He was standing with his two friends in front of a tree and the other group of guys that just started hanging with them for some reason. Unless, they hung out with the other group, but those guys didn't care.

"Would it technically be considered suicide if you get hire an assassin to kill you?" Dylan asked Alex.

That was one question Blake didn't want to hear when he walked up to his two friends.

"Why?" Blake asked confused, not sure if he wanted to know or not.

"I mean, do you have to have a written note or something to explain that you hired an assassin to kill you?" Dylan asked confused.

Blake stared at them. "I attempted suicide by swallowing pills and slitting my wrists. Why would you hire someone to kill yourself when you have perfect resources to kill yourself?"

"You're probably a wimp if you have to hire someone to kill yourself," Alex said.

Blake stared at them. "Anyway, I'm going to the library to read. I need to catch up on my reading challenge before summer starts." He had made a challenge to himself to read thirteen books at school before summer vacation. He was currently on his ninth book, but hanging out with his friends kind of put his challenge on hold.

He went to the library and found a seat. He took a book out of his backpack and opened it to the bookmark.

He noticed a girl walk up to him. She seemed confused and Blake looked at her. She fidgeted and looked uncomfortable. Blake stared, "Do you need anything?"

"Do you think God up there wanted you to cut yourself?" She blurted out and turned red.

Blake stared, "I believe in the Greek gods."

The girl grimaced, "I'm sorry for that." She left the library quickly and Blake rolled his eyes. He didn't know or care if God existed; he just didn't want to end up confused or angry about trying to argue with someone about it.

Some guy just walked up to him and Blake looked at him annoyed to. Either the guy didn't care he was annoyed or didn't see how annoyed he is.

"Hey, I was just wondering," The guy started.

"Yes," Blake urged on.

"How can you hate yourself to the point of that?" The guy blurted out.

Blake stared at him. "Well for one, I have depression. My mind told me that I'm not needed and it kept feeding me lies about how I'm not loved. My mind started nitpicking about everything that I do is wrong, to the point that I couldn't do anything to stop it. I started seeing everything that my mind pointed out." He forced a smile, "Shall I continue?"

"I'm good," The boy left and Blake started.

* * *

Dean was trying to read Fahrenheit 451.

The key word was trying.

It seemed like when he doesn't want to be alone, he's alone. It seemed like when he wants to be alone, everybody bothers him. As of now, he's trying to read, but it seems like everyone wants to bother him. For drawings, questions, and just seeing how his day is going.

Like he's going to tell them that his cousin, who's like a son to him, is suicidal and used to cut. What are they going to say? Sorry? For what? They didn't put the knife or whatever in his cousin's hand and made him cut himself.

He decided that reading will push those thoughts out of his mind and tried.

The door to the locker room opened and Dean nearly tossed the book in the air. His heart started speeding up. "My cousin is suicidal and used to cut himself!"

For some strange reason, Dean says the first thing on his mind every time someone startles him. The first thing that was on his mind was that.

"Your cousin is fourteen, right?" Triple H asked and Dean felt his eye twitch.

"Yeah," Dean replied. He looked up at Triple H.

Triple H wasn't sure what he would do if one of his kids used to cut or is suicidal. He couldn't imagine dealing with the stress. "I'm—" He didn't know what to say.

"Sorry? For what? You didn't put the knife in Blake's hand." Dean replied, "You didn't put the bottle of pills in his hand. You didn't force him to swallow those pills or cut the veins in his wrists. You didn't walk in on him barely breathing; I did. What do you have to be sorry for?"

Triple H winced and looked down. He wasn't sure how to react; his employee was talking to him about the darkest moment in his life. "That sounds…"

"Horrifying? I know," Dean replied. "I try not to think about it that much."

* * *

He was trying to read the book while his friends were sword fighting with tubes of wrapping paper. They were too loud and distracting.

Dean tried not to say anything. He was trying to read and heard something fall down.

"Damn it! Stop horsing around before you break the bed! I don't want to pay three-hundred dollars for a bed! Again," Dean shouted at them. He shook the book at them, threateningly.

"Why? You're the one tried to use a mattress as a floatation device," Roman said.

"It was $148. I didn't break the bed," Dean replied.

"Once you become a 'father' to Blake, you're no fun." Seth replied and crossed his arms.

Dean grabbed his sports bag and opened it. He pulled out his wooden spoon and shook it at Seth. "That's it, corner."

"What did I do?" Seth asked, confused.

"You called me no fun." Dean said and shook the spoon at Seth. "So corner," Seth did as he was told. Roman snorted; Dean pointed the spoon at him. "Don't make me put __you__ in the corner."

"I'm good," Roman said and sat on the bed.

Dean nodded and went back to trying to read. He heard slapping sounds and he pointed at the two with the spoon. "That's it! Corner!" Roman muttered something and went to stand in the corner.

Seth asked in a mocking tone, "Daddy, when are we allowed to leave the corners?"

"Till I finish reading, dear child," Dean said. Seth let out an exaggerated groan and Roman just face-palmed.

* * *

A/N: I'm finishing it here because I ran out of ideas for this story. I may update when I get ideas.

I got using the mattress as a floatation device from a episode of Psych that's called Last Night Gus, which is a parody of The Hangover.


	14. Story Telling

Summary: Charles meets Dylan and Alex. He ends up telling them stories about his time in prison and a little bit of family history springs up from Dylan.

* * *

"I just noticed that Christmas traditions are like the behavior that I have when I'm drunk." Charles said to Dylan and Alex. The two boys were sitting on a couch as Charles sat on a chair.

"Not really Dad." Dean explained, "You told me stories about your childhood." Charles shushed him. Dean looked at Blake and rolled his eyes. The two of them where standing in the kitchen, where there was a window-like opening in the wall. Dean wouldn't admit it out loud, but he cherished those moments that he shared with his drunken dad.

"I may be old, but I remember hearing my son saying something about you two boys being bi." Charles said and looked at the two boys' reactions. Alex winced as Dylan glared at his friend. Dean ended up face-palming at his dad telling them that. "Let's clear the air. I'm racist, not homophobic. I don't care who people date because it doesn't concern me."

"Okay." Alex replied, confused.

"Some of my gang members were 'gay' in prison because they had to settle with what they had," Charles explained. Blake and Dean looked at each other confused. "After we got out, they went back to being 'straight.'" Charles was using air-quotes.

"Good to know," Dylan replied.

"Most of them would deny it because you know reasons." Charles explained, "Do you two get bullied?"

"Yes," Alex said. "Even Blake gets bullied too. Although it's because he's suicidal."

Charles stared at the two boys. "That makes complete sense. Bully a kid that's known for attempting suicide. It's not like it'll make them want to die even more."

Dylan and Alex looked uncomfortable.

"Uh, Charles…" Alex trailed off.

"Call me Uncle Charles," He said.

"Uncle Charles, can we change topics?" Alex asked, looking uncomfortable.

"Sure thing," Charles said. "Have either of you been to be prison?"

"No." The two boys said at the same time.

"Juvie then?" Charles asked.

"No." The two said again.

"Arrested?" Charles replied.

"No." The two boys repeated.

"Don't get arrested. It'll change you," Charles said.

"I wasn't…planning on it," Dylan replied.

Alex looked at Dylan and Charles. "I'm going to assume that it will change you."

Charles nodded, "Have any of your parents, grandparents, or great-grandparents been a part of the KKK?"

"No." Alex said, although he wasn't sure now. He didn't know his family's history, maybe they could've been part of the KKK, or maybe they helped Harriet Tubman for all he knew.

"My ancestors were involved in the birth control movement." Dylan said and everyone stared at him confused. "My family is big with 'knowing you're roots' and 'know where you came from' type of family."

"Nice to know," Alex said.

"Supposedly one of my ancestors fired the first shot that kick started the American Revolution, but we're not sure because that may be a lie or the fact was twisted around." Dylan said, "Moving on, Uncle Charles, before I end up bringing up my ancestor's past crimes."

"Jesus Christ, Dylan. What did your ancestors do?" Dean asked, wondering what Dylan's ancestors could've done. Blake wasn't sure what to think about that.

Dylan winced, "Really horrible stuff. Let's move on, please."

Charles nodded, "Okay. Well, anyway, I grew up with members that were in the KKK."

"Even the women?" Alex asked, shocked.

"Yes," Charles nodded. "Let's change topics to prison again." Dylan and Alex looked at each other. Charles had this lost in memories look on his face. "I told you that some of my gang members where 'gay' in prison. No offense to you two. It's not liked in prison, much like people who harmed a kid or teenager. We beat those people up so badly, that they have to be placed in protective custody."

Dean fondly remembered his dad having that look on his face when he talked about the 'good ole days' when he was drunk.

"Good to know," Alex said.

"Remember your friend Amy?" Charles asked.

"Yes," Dean deadpanned. How can he forget? She was one of his friends.

"Her rapist got beaten up in prison," Charles said. The others stared at him. "Also, that one bitch, Mrs. Harrison, remember her?"

Dean cringed, "I try not to."

"Yeah, Robin told me all about her," Charles replied.

"I assumed that she did," Dean replied.

"So, I guess she told some of my member's wives that happened to be in the women's prison where that bitch was at," Charles replied. "They told others and those women didn't like that."

Blake shrugged, "People in prison love kids. That's why people hurt people that hurt kids. That's also why people that hurt kids are put in protective custody."

"Sometimes the police hits people that hurt kids too. I've seen it happen before," Charles said.

Blake wasn't surprised, "Really?"

"Yes, when they think that people aren't looking," Charles said.

Alex blinked, "Good to know."

Charles grinned, "I know." He stopped smiling. "I remembered what we were talking about. I remember of my gang members got slashed in the face because he was 'with' another guy in prison."

"What's the point of this?" Alex asked.

Dylan elbowed him. "Quiet Alex, Uncle Charles is telling us stories." He was sitting cross-legged and was looking interested in the stories.

Charles grinned and then frowned. "It was all bad. He now has a scar on his face. He claims that he got cut in a bar fight."

Dean was offended. "He told me that he got that in a fight with a bear."

Charles nodded. "He tells different stories, but that's how he really got that scar."

Blake stared, "He told me that he got that in a three on one fight and he won." Now that made complete sense.

"Like I said dear nephew, he tells different stories." Charles replied and Blake shrugged.

Dean looked at his dad. "Why does he tell different stories?"

Charles looked at his son, nephew, and the other two kids. "Well, most people hate it in prison. They don't talk about their 'escapades' when they were in prison, mostly due to the hatred of it. I don't understand why, to be honest. I know it's against religion, but I know a bunch of religious people that don't give a fuck about it."

"I know. It's not like it's contagious. It's not like if you sneeze, you can catch it," Blake said. "It's not like you can catch my depression."

Dean patted Blake on the shoulder and placed his hand on Blake's head. "Shh. Try not to think about it."

"Prison is where sagging was invented," Charles replied. "That was also due to the weight loss and pants sagging down. Sagging was meant that you wanted ass-sex. No offense. That's where prison rape was invented too."

"So when guys sags their pants on purpose…" Dylan trailed off.

"It makes them think they're 'gangsta' and 'bad-ass.' When in truth, it makes them look ignorant," Charles said. "Never believe those idiots who 'smoke' and 'drink.'"

* * *

A/N: I'm leaving this as complete and there might be some updates whenever I get ideas.

I also don't know how prison works, because it might be different for different states. But I do know that in-mates love kids and beat up people that hurt kids. The people that hurt kids end up in protective custody too.

My mom told me that there might be some police officers that hurt the convicts that hurts kids.


End file.
